"You said last night--"
"I don't remember what I said. And anyway, one says many things at
night that sound foolish in the daytime." She stood up. "Perhaps Kerrel
was right."
"About what?"
"About you. He made quite a scene when I joined him again. He said a
number of things, and some of them were true."
"Such as what?" asked Trehearne evenly.
"Such as that heredity has played a rather cruel trick on you, and that
you're better off to know nothing about your ancestry. Get me my robe,
Michael, I must go."
But he had reached out and caught her wrist, and his grip was not
gentle. "You can't do that," he said. "You can't refuse to tell me now."
"Oh," she said softly, "but I can. And I do."
"Listen," said Trehearne. "I've come a long way, and I've been through
a lot. You're a beautiful woman, and I suppose you have a right to your
whims, but not about this."
She looked down at his hand that was locked so tight around her wrist,
and then up at him again, and her eyes were bright and very hot. "Is
that your idea of persuasion?"
"Are you going to tell me?"
"No." She showed him her teeth, silently, in a catlike smile. "Kerrel
is waiting for me."
"Let him wait."
"But he won't. We're leaving St. Malo today, and I assure you he won't
go without me." He dropped her wrist.
"I'll follow you."